I Will Be Your Light in the Dark
by Nikki Von Dratch
Summary: "She's practically thrumming with magic. Like tiny bolts of lightning, it arcs between them, jumping from Regina to Morgana and seeping into Morgana's skin, setting every nerve ending on edge."


"My lady?"

Her voice is low, quiet as she steps into the small room. She shivers against the chill and pulls her cloak tighter around her as she hedges forward. Dark eyes sweep over every inch of the cramped space until they finally settle on the small, hunched person lying in the far corner. Morgana has pulled herself into the fetal position, to ward off the cold and the sadness no doubt. She's a pile of dark hair and purple silk that stands out in stark contrast to the drab surroundings of the dungeon chamber.

Moving a little quicker now, Regina makes her way across the room. She kneels in the rough hay that's strewn about the cold stone floor, grimacing as the straw digs into her skin even through the fabric of her dress, and reaches out a hand, pushes dark hair away from a face that's pale as porcelain and just as exquisite, even dirty and tear-stained as it is now. Blue-green eyes flutter open at the touch and Morgana gasps, suddenly very much awake. She jerks herself upright quickly and backs herself against the wall, pulling her knees up to her chest instinctively. She's scared and confused, unable to make out just who the dark figure is looming above her.

"My lady," Regina repeats, reaching out again, slender fingers closing around Morgana's wrist. "Morgana, it's me. You don't have to be afraid."

Morgana's face softens and her entire body relaxes at the sound of the familiar voice. She squints against the darkness, her eyes frantically searching out the outline of a face concealed by shadows, to no avail.

"Regina?" she asks, voice hoarse from sleep and the lack of use. She's been here for two days, two whole days, with no sunlight or warmth, and little food or water. Just the scratchy straw for her to curl up on and the rats to keep her company. Not even the guards come by as often as they should, but Morgana's learned quickly to be thankful for that. "Is it you? Are you really here?" she whispers, eyes wide, and she's afraid that she's dreaming. Leave it to her already unstable and fragile mind to conjure up something more to add to the torture her so-called father has already put upon her.

"It's me," Regina assures, leaning closer and bringing Morgana's trembling hand up to her lips. She kisses the bruised knuckles once, twice, three times, and feels Morgana relax even more. "I'm here. I've come to take you away."

"But how? I can't leave. Uther," Morgana says the name with such distaste that it makes even Regina flinch, "has left me here to rot. I am to be punished for sins I did not commit. How can I leave? How are you even here? It isn't possible. I must be dreaming."

Regina shifts forward on her knees, and her face finally comes into view. She catches Morgana's gaze with her own and holds it for a long moment, until Morgana looks away, still afraid that this is some cruel trick that her mind is playing on her. Regina's fingers glide up Morgana's arm, beneath the sleeve of her dress, and then she catches the skin between her fingers in a pinch that makes Morgana hiss in pain.

"See? You aren't dreaming," Regina says, smirking, and that's when Morgana pushes herself forward, throwing herself into Regina's arms and almost toppling them both to the floor.

Regina makes a small oomph sound and wraps her arms around Morgana, pressing her lips to cool skin as the younger woman clings to her for dear life.

"How?" Morgana asks, voice barely above a whisper and filled with emotion. "I don't understand."

"Magic," Regina explains simply. She pulls away from Morgana just a little and brings one hand up between them, snapping her fingers and igniting a small flame in the palm of her hand. It bathes their little corner of the room in soft light, gives way to Regina's smiling face and warm, dark eyes.

Morgana gasps and falls back. "You—you're—"

"Yes, and you are too," Regina tells her, still clutching Morgana's hand to keep her from going too far. "You don't have to be afraid. I need you to trust me now. Can you do that?"

Morgana nods dumbly, too awestruck to say anything. Regina extinguishes the flame in her palm and tugs her forward again, into her arms, and Morgana's hands tangle in the front of Regina's thick and heavy cloak.

"You'll want to close your eyes," Regina says, "and hold on tight."

Morgana nods again and pushes herself impossibly closer. She closes her eyes when she feels Regina's arms wrap around her again, and then there's a sort of strange and distant hum that filters into Morgana's ears. Regina's body feels warm, too warm, and she's practically thrumming with magic. Like tiny bolts of lightning, it arcs between them, jumping from Regina to Morgana and seeping into Morgana's skin, setting every nerve ending on edge. She clenches her eyes shut tighter and feels the air shift about them, causing her skin to prickle with goosebumps.

It's all over in an instant.

The next time Morgana opens her eyes, they're in an entirely different place. A room with stone walls and floors much like the dungeon prison she'd been held in, but here there's bright sunlight streaming in through the windows and Morgana can feel the cool breeze on her skin. She lets out a sigh of relief, even though she's terrified and confused and her heart is pounding.

Regina pulls away from her too soon and Morgana has to tighten her grip on Regina's cloak to keep from crumpling to the floor when her knees give out.

"Easy now, I've got you," Regina says, catching Morgana in her arms and holding her steady.

"Where—where are we?" Morgana asks, sweeping her eyes around the wholly unfamiliar room. It's even more beautiful than anything she's seen within the castle walls at Camelot, and she wonders for a brief moment if she's in an entirely new land altogether.

"My castle, dear," Regina replies, offering up a smile and caressing Morgana's cheek. "You'll be safe here, should you choose to stay."

Morgana doesn't even have to think twice before she says, "Yes, I want to stay."

Regina's smile blossoms into something so beautiful that it takes Morgana's breath away.

"Wonderful," she says, and it's clear that she means it. She wants Morgana there as much as Morgana wants to be there, and it's a strange sort of feeling, actually being wanted, rather than just being tolerated, but it's certainly not unwelcome.

Regina steps away from Morgana again, slowly this time to make sure the other woman has found her footing. When Morgana doesn't sway unsteadily, Regina moves away completely and starts walking toward the huge wooden doors, cloak swirling about her ankles like a billowing cloud of dark smoke. It's quite fitting, Morgana thinks.

When Regina reaches the doors, she turns back to Morgana, who's still rooted to her spot on the other side of the room and looking terribly unsure of herself.

"Are you coming?" Regina asks with a crooked smile. "You've much to learn, dear. We must get started."

Morgana nearly trips over her own feet in her haste to catch up.


End file.
